The Haunt
by LightHeartLoreli
Summary: Oppressive summer heat. 80's night. What's a girl to do? Or a guy, for that matter? Two lemon drop shots coming up. Part one - Edward/Bella Part two - Rosalie/Emmett
1. Chapter 1

**Dearest Beta love, KrisBCullen - We hope that we did Ithaca "right," you proud, and smut gratuitous. Happy Birthday.**

We don't own anything. If you are under 18, please to be reading one of our other stories. Thanks so much.

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**The Haunt**

**2002**

**BPOV**

I sold my soul for a "Suicide sub." Seemed appropriate, given the name.

A week ago, I was very drunk and very desperate. In much need of a "Sui" sub from Johnny's Hot Truck, I stumbled down the street toward where the grease cart took up permanent residence each night. As was usually the case, the line was nearly a block long. Mike Newton stood near the front of that line and he'd spotted me and my disdainful glare at the others that stood in the way of instant gratification.

Sensing my weakness, Mike saw his golden opportunity. He waved me over and offered to get my sub with his, for the price of a date. He'd been relentless in his attempts, hounding me to go out with him since the summer session started. Eying the close proximity of the cart behind him, I finally told him _yes. _Because, _dammit, _I needed that sub.

Yes, I was bought for a sandwich and all things considered, in my drunken state, I thought it was a pretty good deal at the time.

For the record, I should have just stood on the damn line.

We'd gone to dinner at the Moosewood Restaurant and he'd talked for solid two hours about his favorite subject: himself. I sat politely, simultaneously smiling and gritting my teeth while saying next to nothing. I'd thought that he might have been a good one to take the sexual edge off I'd been feeling as of late, with the majority of the student body gone and the pickings slim. But no amount of sexual frustration was worth dealing with his asshattery. Finally, I faked an emergency phone call, lighting up my Nokia with my own finger and telling him that I had to cut the evening short. I felt bad lying, but I felt worse spending time with him.

I'd contemplated just walking back to my apartment but I was too keyed up, so instead I decided to grab a TCAT bus to _The Haunt. _ It was Thursday night so I knew it wouldn't be too crowded _and_ it was 80's night. Perfect time to put on my proverbial dancing shoes.

"Name?" The large man crossed his large arms over his large chest, looking intimating and well... large.

I spoke, perhaps a little too quickly. "Rosalie Hale." I felt a single bead of perspiration slide down between my breasts. It was a toss up whether it was due to the heat of the summer air or the humongous man looming over me.

"Birth date?" Leaning his back slightly against the door jam, he sounded uninterested. I could hear the 80's music drifting out to where we stood and felt the pumping of the bass through my feet even though I wasn't yet through the door.

I looked down, my hands playing with my skirt of my dress, and hoped he wouldn't notice the discrepancies in both hair and eye color. Oh, and the fact that I was merely average height instead of Amazonian. _I really need to find a better ID._ "April 2nd, 1980."

He squinted at the ID, seeming to look at the picture, but obviously not really examining it closely.

The bouncer handed the plastic card back to me and held out his hand. "Five."

I handed him five singles, and he pocketed the money, pressed a stamp into a black ink pad, and left its mark on my hand. _The Haunt_. Smiling to myself, I walked into the nearly desolate room, stumbling slightly over the floor and trying in vain to grab onto something, only to realize it was a beam of light that shone down from the ceiling. _Graceful as ever, Bella. _Blushing, I looked around to see if anyone had noticed my near mishap.

I felt eyes upon me and mine were immediately drawn to the bartender. He was leaning against the counter behind the bar and laughing easily at something one of his comrades had said, but his eyes were trained on me. He gave me an easy smile and I tingled at his appraisal. I was grateful that the darkness covered my deeper blush. Other than the hot bartender, it didn't seem as though anyone had seen inability to walk.

My body felt the magnetic pull of this man but as a new song started, my mind reminded me why I was there. Immediately, I walked toward the dance floor, on a mission. At the end of the spring semester I'd been talking to my roommate, Angela, about my lack of coordination. She'd suggested giving _dancing _a try. Initially I scoffed at the idea, but having come up with nothing better myself, I figured that the summer would be the best time to test out this theory. I'd found that while I wasn't able to keep from falling ass over tits while doing something simple like walking, dancing somehow made my body work the way it was supposed to. I'd shied away from it for so long because it wasn't something that I would have ever have thought possible. But there, in the low lights of the bar, with the thumping music, my body knew just what to do. The red lights that decorated the bar made the place glow seductively. I closed my eyes and just _was._

There weren't many students around so I'd only make a fool of myself in front of those there for the summer session and the townies. _And apparently the hot as fuck bartenders like the one currently staring me down and running his hand through his hair._

To my surprise, the temperature inside was much the same as it had been outside. Every now and again I'd feel a blast of lukewarm air, cooler than the stagnant heat that surrounded me. There were a few people on the dance floor but it was mostly empty and I had adequate room to move around and just get lost in my own little world for awhile.

A _10,000 Maniacs _song started, and I twirled along with Natalie Merchant's voice before swaying my hips to the rhythm of the song. I felt a presence in front of me and knew it was one of the men who had been sitting at the bar. He must have thought he'd be able to just walk up and start dancing with me. I pulled away, not interested in the offer. It's not how I operated. I wasn't interested in just _anyone._

After a few songs, my hair was sticking to the nape of my neck and my skin felt flushed. Taking a break, I walked to the edge of the bar closest to the dance floor and noticed the bartender who'd seen my grand entrance into the club. He was making his way toward me. Mike Newton didn't hold a candle to him, that was for sure. He was wearing a black t-shirt with _The Haunt's_ logo stamped on the front and a white hand towel was tucked into his jeans pocket. His hair was a mess - a mix of the humidity and his hand constantly running through it. As he swaggered closer, his eyes caught mine and although I didn't have to flash any cleavage to get his attention, I automatically leaned forward to do so anyway. On busy nights, sometimes it was the only way to get a drink in a reasonable amount of time. That night, I just felt like playing.

Throwing a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of me he leaned forward so he could be heard over the music. "Whaddya havin'?"

"Water with lime, please."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. I sat down on an empty stool, watching him move behind the bar. He pulled a water glass from the shelf and filled it with ice cubes. He looked over at me, his eyes dancing down toward my chest and then up again, before he asked conversationally, "Hot enough for you?"

_You are, that's for sure._

"Damn straight. But I figure since I'll be dealing with the upstate New York winters before you know it, I should just take advantage."

He placed the glass of water on the napkin and put a plate of limes next to it. "Free of charge." He said, tongue in cheek. I wouldn't mind having his tongue in _my_ cheek. And other places. Hmmmm.

Squeezing a few pieces of lime into the glass, I nodded my thanks. I figured he'd move away, down the bar to join in the conversation with his fellow coworkers once more, but instead he stayed near me. I pulled the straw into my mouth, sucking down the water greedily.

"What's your name?"

"B- Rosalie. Rosalie Hale." I picked up the drink and pressed the cool glass against one cheek and then the other. I had nearly told him my name but considering he was working at the bar I'd just used a fake ID to get into, I figured it would be best to go with my fake name. Granted, it was a _real _ID, it just wasn't _my _ID. _Rosalie Hale from Rochester, NY 5'9" blonde hair, blue eyes. _Yup, we were practically twins.

His smiled widened. "Rosalie Hale, huh?"

"Yes. That's my name." I answered, frowning slightly.

"Well now, _Rosalie Hale._ It's a small world after all!" He pointed down to the other end of the bar where a familiar looking leggy blonde girl was standing between the muscular legs of a man whom I assume was her boyfriend. The muscular man leaned back against the bar, playing with the strap of her shirt. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. "_Her _name is Rosalie Hale, too!"

_Fuck._

The jealous feeling was replaced with one of shame as I dropped my head down and played with the napkin that sat under my glass, rolling the corner inward. _Jig is up._ "It's Bella Swan."

"Why the lie, Bella Swan?"

"Well, I got Rosalie's ID passed down to me from a girl that lived on my floor. I used it to get in here tonight since I'm only twenty." Looking up, I found him staring hard, as though he was trying to see into my soul. "Are you going to get the big guy from out front to throw me out?"

"Throw you out?" He looked amused by my question.

"Yeah, you know, since you work here? I just came to dance and I don't plan on drinking," I explained, pointing to the water.

He smirked. "Why'd ya come _here_ if you don't drink?"

"I didn't say that I _don't _drink, but I'm not drinking tonight. I'm a bit of a klutz, so a friend suggested dancing to work it out, maybe be a little more graceful on my feet."

He pointed to the dance floor with a long finger. "You didn't look like a klutz out there to me."

My heart leapt in my chest as I took notice of his fingers and my mind immediately raced to all the things he could do with them. _Shit Swan, get a hold of yourself! _"No? What did I look like?"

He shook his head slowly from side to side before taking the rag out of his pocket, wiping down the already clean bar. Leaning toward me again, I felt his hot breath brush my ear and shoulder. "You looked sexy as hell."

His comment suggested that he was interested in getting to _know me_, so I just smiled coyly at the compliment. Don Henley's_ All She Wants to Do Is Dance _poured out of the speakers and I hitched a thumb over my shoulder. "They're playing my song. Excuse me." Leaning toward him, I grabbed a spoon from the utensil holder directly in front of him, not missing how his eyes took the opportunity to peruse my rack. Grabbing a few of the melting cubes from my glass, I held them in my hand, feeling the water drip between my fingers and slide off my wrist. Swinging my legs around, I pushed off the bar and walked back out to the dance floor, paying special attention to the sway in my hips. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw his eyes following my every move, dark and smoldering. I figured since I had an audience, I might as well put on a little show.

**EPOV**

Another Thursday night in July, insufferably hot and dead as a morgue at the bar where I worked, _The Haunt. _Why the fuck Peter scheduled all three of us when he knew we'd get _maybe_ a total of eight customers throughout the night was beyond me. _I should take off and save him the waste of paying me for standing around with my thumb up my ass._ At least Emmett had Rosalie there to flirt the monotony away. From the looks of it, it was just a matter of time before the flirting turned to earnest fucking._ Typical. _Those two were like teenage rabbits.

Although I knew Jazz was just as bored as I was, he handled it better. His amused smirk, which must be an inherent Texan trait, was plain on his face as he took in Em and Rose very plainly eye fucking each other over the bar. Even I could feel the wanton heat those two radiated. It was almost scandalous, and I was convinced the heat of the summer night intensified their desire. My eyes traveled between Rose and Em. He slid a beer down the bar to her and it sloshed as she caught it. I watched her lick the spilled beer off her fingers. Rose wasn't my type in the way of personality, but I couldn't deny that she was, beyond any doubt, completely, one hundred percent fuckable.

"Remember, this is a family establishment," Jazz chastised her for her blatant erotic display.

"The hell it is. Did you or did you not fuck Alice against the cooler in the back last week?" Em shot back, still enraptured by Rose slowly pulling her index finger out of her mouth like she was sucking a lollipop, or something else. I snorted and grabbed a dishcloth to wipe down the already clean bar for the fourth time in an hour.

The air shifted signaling that a new customer walked in. My gaze flew to the door instantly, as was my habit being a bartender. The new patron was a young woman and quite pretty, not uncommon things to see coupled together in this college town full of co-eds. She wore a white dress, sort of lacy, with a full skirt and little tie straps at her shoulders. Her brown hair was thick and full and sticking to her neck from the dewy perspiration that made her shoulders glisten in the pulsing club lights. Okay, maybe she was _more_ than just _pretty_. I decided I'd classify her as incredibly fuckable. I watched her step further into the bar, and suddenly, she tripped over...nothing before she caught herself. Her eyes betrayed a flash of panic, worried her slip had been witnessed by the entire bar. Her eyes locked with mine for a moment and I flashed the same friendly smile I gave all our customers. _I wonder what color her eyes are,_ I thought to myself, there was something decidedly cute about her.

The place was practically empty and no one was on the dance floor despite the DJ blaring _10,000 Maniacs._ The skirt of her white dress swayed as she made a determined beeline to the middle of the dance floor. I watched her, fucking impressed with her confidence and half wondering what she was doing. I didn't understand the expression on her face, like she was preparing for the SAT. Her brow was wrinkled in total concentration, and she started to slowly sway her hips. Her head fell back slightly, her chest jutted out as if that would get her closer to the music.

Some corner of my mind was still following round three of Jazz and Em's verbal sparring, but most of my mind was absorbed in watching her. It took guts to come here alone, to step out on the dance floor by herself, without the protection of friends and the excuse of alcohol for any lack of grace she might display. It was rare to witness that kind of freedom in someone, that kind of ability to let go and just _be_. Before long some random jackhole approached her, which didn't surprise me, she was worth approaching. She moved away from him though, clearly not interested. _Wonder if she'd be interested in me?_ I was tempted to break my rule about picking up girls at work. Lord knows I'd turned down a slew of whores who'd whispered seductive entreaties in my ear over the bar. This girl was different though. She was comfortable in her skin, and, apparently, _not_ a whore. A definite fucking plus.

The song ended, but she didn't stop moving right away. Her hips continued to gently sway to a beat that wasn't playing anymore. For a moment relative silence filled the bar, and slowly her head lifted and her eyes opened. Her chest heaved in a deep breath like she was relieved almost, and she walked toward the bar. Dancing in this heat made the bodice of her dress stick to her deliciously, and I could make out every fucking curve of her breasts. I made my way down to that end of the bar, hoping she needed..._serving_.

"Whaddya havin'?" I asked, leaning over the bar and placing a cocktail napkin before her. _Brown eyes. Pretty ones too, _I noted.

"Water with lime, please," she replied in a sultry voice that belied her innocent appearance.

I turned to get her water and limes. As I moved I felt her eyes on me, following my ass everywhere it carried me It was a feeling I was used to, but instead of annoyed like usual, I felt _heat._ I glanced back at her, and not only was she obviously enjoying the view, but she was biting her lip, her white teeth crushing against her soft pink lip. I watched unabashedly as a tiny droplet of sweat traveled from her neck down between her tits and disappeared into her dress. If that dress got much wetter, it'd be totally see through. I bit my lip at the thought before I turned back to her with her water and limes.

"Hot enough for you?" I asked, trying to make small talk over the loud music.

"Damn straight. But I figure since I'll be dealing with the upstate New York winters before you know it, I should just take advantage."

Fair enough. Winters here were a fucking bitch. "Free of charge." I said and smiled as I sat the glass and limes down. She nodded her thanks for the drink and squeezed a lime into her glass. Greedily, I watched her take the straw between her flushed lips. Her cheeks indented as she sucked, pulling the water into her mouth.

_Fuck me. Please._

"What's your name?" Definitely breaking my rule tonight. I had to try for her. She was just to fuckable too pass up.

"B- Rosalie. Rosalie Hale," she answered, pressing the cold glass to her flushed cheeks. It took all I had not to laugh outright, she had no idea she'd just been caught in a lie.

"Rosalie Hale, huh?"

"Yes. That's my name," she answered, frowning slightly.

"Well now, _Rosalie Hale._ It's a small world after all!" I pointed down to the other end of the bar where Em and Rose's eye-fucking was reaching epic porn star proportions. "_Her _name is Rosalie Hale too!" I said with mock amazement.

She looked down at the napkin sheepishly, her slender nimble fingers toying with its edges. "It's Bella Swan," she confessed guiltily.

"Why the lie, Bella Swan?"

She explained how she'd inherited Rosalie's old ID from a dorm mate, and had used it to get in. She worried I'd get the bouncer to throw her out, but I doubted that would've been necessary even if I'd had any interest in following the rules. I'd make any exceptions for _her_. She promised she wasn't planning on drinking and, with a wink, I assured her that her secret was safe with me.

"Why'd ya come _here_ if you don't drink?" I was curious about that still.

"I didn't say that I _don't _drink, but I'm not drinking tonight. I'm a bit of a klutz, so a friend suggested dancing to work it out, maybe be a little more graceful on my feet."

I gestured to the dance floor. "You didn't look like a klutz out there to me."

"No? What did I look like?" she asked, watching my hand as I pulled back and rested it on the bar. Should I tell her the truth? Why the hell not, I wanted her. If she didn't know it already, maybe this would clue her in.

I leaned over the bar toward her and whispered (albeit loudly), "You looked sexy as hell."

She blushed ten shades of pink and smiled before taking another sip of water. Her soft lips wrapped around the straw, puckering and pulling. _God damn._

The song changed to _All She Wants To Do Is Dance. _She sat the glass down and pointed over her shoulder. "They're playing my song. Excuse me." She reached over and plucked a spoon out of the bar station so she could fish a couple of ice cubes from her glass, then carried them to the dance floor with her.

I watched her stroll away, anxious to see if I could detect any of the clumsiness she supposedly suffered from. The low heels she wore set her shapely calves off to perfection and I could swear her hips swayed more than before. Maybe the dancing really did help loosen her up. If not, I'm sure I could think of something that _would_. She glanced over her shoulder at me, her brown eyes boring into mine with enough electricity to light up all of Ithaca. She started to sway to the song, her eyes closed again as she gave herself up to the music. With one hand, she gathered her hair up and held it on top of her head. Her other hand held the ice cubes, and I watched her bring them up to the back of her neck, rubbing them slowly over her flushed skin below her hairline, then down and around to her chest. _Holy shit._

"Jazz, I'm taking twenty," I heard Emmett say as Rose stood up from her bar stool. Time for earnest fucking, just as I'd predicted.

"Oh, I doubt it will take more than five. " Fucking Jazz and his sarcasm. I chuckled, but kept my eyes on _her_ and her ice.

Em was no slouch either, though. "Aww, sweetheart, don't be bitter. If you had any idea where or what a clit is, you'd be able to get Alice off pretty quick too."

"Fuck off."

"How'd you know?" Rosalie quipped as Emmett dragged her off toward the office in back.

I didn't give a shit, just as long as I didn't have to listen to it. "Seriously, try to keep the screaming down to a minimum so you don't scare off our three customers." I warned.

"I think your creepy staring will take care of that, Eddie. Stop being a pussy and go dance with her." I hated when Emmett called me Eddie, as much as I hated being called a pussy.

"Yeah, no problem, I'll just fucking _work _while you two screw around," Jasper volunteered.

"Great." I grabbed a few ice cubes from the machine and jumped over the bar. _Dumbass. _Jazz knew better than to offer himself up like that. Of course I'd jump on that shit.

She was still dancing to "her song," still rubbing the ice over her neck and bare shoulders. Her fingers grazed the ties of her dress and I found myself wishing her finger would get caught and untie one of them. Her eyes were still shut, so she didn't see me coming up behind her. I brought a cube up to her shoulder and spoke into her ear.

"I figured yours had melted," I said as I trailed it down her shoulder blade. She shivered, though I couldn't imagine why. It was hot as Hades and she'd been rubbing ice all over herself for Christ's sake. She let go of her hair, letting it fall down her back in a tumble of strawberry scented chestnut. She turned to face me, still swaying her hips, her eyes dreamily seductive and her pink lips parted as she looked me up and down. _She's sizing me the fuck up. _

"Like what you see?" I asked and started to move in rhythm to the music, in rhythm with _her_.

"You'll do," she allowed with pretended nonchalance as she stepped into me, her lips curling into a smirk that probably matched my own. _Nothing fucking hotter than a confident woman. _

"Do you do this a lot?" she asked. "I mean, do you dance with customers often? Seems like that would be a no-no."

"No, never, Bella. You're the first."

"Is that so Mr...?"

"Cullen."

"Well, Mr. Cullen, I'm honored." She spun around and stepped backward, closer to me. I was lost for a moment in a haze of freshly washed white cotton and more strawberries, and when she lightly ground her ass into me as our bodies synchronized to the music, I made up my mind. I _had_ to have her, I just needed to know one thing.

"Do _you _do this often? I mean, let random guys hit on you at bars?" I asked in her ear and I'm sure my desire was blatantly fucking obvious in my voice.

"No. Never, Mr. Cullen."

I smiled next to her ear. "It's Edward, Bella."

We kept dancing but didn't speak anymore. With each song that played, the chemistry between us mixed into a heady cocktail of lust concocted from equal parts heat and sweat and primal attraction. She brushed her ass against me relentlessly in the pulsing lights above the dance floor and I brought one hand to her hip, clutching her pelvic bone and balling the fabric of her dress in my fist. I caught Jazz out of the corner of my eye watching with what almost looked like envy. She leaned her head back again, resting it against my chest in the most comfortable, familiar way. Our bodies moved in time with each other and she seemed to fit so perfectly against me, just the perfect height and size. Just fucking..._perfect_.

"What do you say, Bella, can I take you home?" I didn't specify to whose home. She turned her head and her mouth was just inches away, her lips parted and inviting. Her eyes opened and locked with mine; I'd seen that look before.

"Yes, please," she surrendered.

Taking her hand I led her off the dance floor and nodded at Jazz, the nod that said _I'm getting some, cover me._ Guy code dictated he give me the required response; an eye roll that meant _alright fine, you fucker. _We left through the back to and found my Ducati parked in the alley. Her eyes bulged when she realized she'd be climbing on the back of my silver crotch rocket. I threw a leg over and thrust the key into the ignition. The bike snarled viciously, vibrating with matched intensity as I turned the grip and fed it more gas. She bit her lip, a little doubtful.

"Hop on." I quirked an eyebrow and shot the smile I reserved for special occasions at her. Her eyes grew even bigger but she stepped toward me and threw a leg over without any more hesitation. I felt her arms wrap around me tightly, her tits flush against my back. I twisted the handle triumphantly and we speed down the alley. Ten minutes later, we were in front of my apartment building, an old industrial building that had recently been converted into apartments. We dismounted and I offered her my hand again, feeling a scintillating shock of electricity as our skin met and I pulled her toward the entrance, getting more impatient by the second to _have_ her.

As we rode the elevator up to the third floor, the sparks between us flew like a fucking roman candle. I moved toward her and cornered her, one hand on either side of her head against the wall. I leaned in and kissed her, kissed her _hard_. She accepted willingly, parting her lips to allow my eager, probing tongue complete access. My hands slid from the walls to her hips, gripping the fabric of her dress so hard I had a fleeting worry I'd tear it. My worry disappeared as she ran her hands through my hair and tugged, her tongue caressing the roof of my mouth and exploring _everywhere_. Before I knew it, the elevator bell chimed and the doors slid open.

My apartment was stifling, the AC had been out for over a week and the worthless super showed no sign of doing anything about it. I turned on a single lamp, then quickly opened all the windows since it was marginally cooler outside. Bella stood near the door, watching me, taking in my sparse furniture that really only consisted of a gray couch, a TV and it's assorted electronics and my guitar in the corner. I turned on the stereo, pressing shuffle on the CD player. Jimmy Paige's kick ass guitar riffs from Led Zeppelin's _Whole Lotta Love_ floated through the oppressive air and I turned to face her.

"How about a drink, Bella?"

"Rum and Coke, if you've got it?" she requested. _Easy enough._ I went to the kitchen and the liquor cabinet. She followed me, leaning against the counter for a moment before she decisively gathered her skirt and hopped up on the cold granite counter top.

"Mmmm, that helps," she murmured as she shivered from the coolness against her thighs.

"Sorry it's so hot in here, the AC took a shit last week," I apologized as I handed her the rum and Coke. I then plucked the hem of my shirt and peeled it off, tossing it on the floor. It was just too fucking hot. I watched her wanton gaze take in the planes of my chest. She smirked, obviously pleased with what she saw.

"Don't worry about it, just give me another ice cube, please?" she requested, her eyes sparkling.

I took one from the freezer and moved toward her. I popped the ice cube in my mouth for a moment, then moved my hands to her knees and forced her to spread her legs. She didn't protest and I stepped into her to stand between them. I took the ice from my mouth and slowly slid it over her left collarbone, down the plane between her breasts as far as the neckline of her dress would allow. I eyed the tiny tie straps resting on her shoulders with increasing resentment. They were the only thing depriving me of seeing what I knew would be a set of gorgeous tits. As if she read my mind, she leaned back and splayed her hands on the counter top. The motion made her breasts jut out, fucking _begging_ me to touch them, kiss them, lick them. I brought my hands up to the straps and with a slow, controlled motion, I pulled the bows apart and watched the fabric fall away from her and pool around her waist.

_Perfection. _

I took the ice cube from my mouth and brought it to hers, running it slowly over her lips. In response, she opened her mouth and took it from me. My fingertips danced over her shoulders, across her collarbones, down and around the gentle sloping curve of the sides of her breasts before I took both firmly in my hands. She moaned as my hands cupped her, fitting perfectly in my grasp, soft and smooth and flushed from the heat. I bent over her and licked a tiny circle around her nipple with my ice chilled tongue. She moaned, a long drawn out sound of luxurious sensuality that made my dick stiffen more. I took her nipple in my mouth, massaging her breast with one hand while my other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her to the edge of the counter top. She gasped in surprise at the force of the movement, and I could feel the waves of her heat through my jeans.

She was so close to me know, just right fucking _there_. I grunted my desire against her as I nibbled. She brought a hand to my hair and wove her fingers through it, tugging gently while she moaned again. I opened my eyes and looked at her, she was glorious with her head thrown back, her creamy neck arched as gracefully as a swan's and her quick breathing making her chest heave against my mouth. She raised her head and met my gaze, lust filling her eyes as plainly as I'm sure it filled mine. Her hand pulled my hair, drawing my head away from her. Then with both hands she pushed me away so hard I almost stumbled backward. She jumped off the counter and placed her hands flat against my chest, pushing me until I was against the brick wall behind me.

The ice cube in her mouth had almost melted and she crunched it and swallowed before her hands moved swiftly to my jeans. With a tug, she pulled the button fly apart. I grunted when she forced them, and my boxers, down do the floor, falling to her knees before me in time with the jeans. I tilted my head back against the bricks and flashes of her sucking through that straw ran through my head. I looked down at her, her white dress fanned out around her on the floor, my jeans down around my ankles. _So fucking beautiful. _Her hands snaked up my legs, her nails scraping my thighs as she shifted her weight and took me in her hands. A few soft strokes back and forth and my head fell back and hit the wall again. My eyes rolled and my fists balled, her touch was just the right amount of gentleness blended with heated insistence.

Then I felt it, the singular fan-fucking-tastic sensation of her soft lips wrapping around me. I hissed as she took me fully in her mouth. Her tongue was still cold from the ice. I hit the back of her throat and she paused for the briefest of moments, acclimating herself to me. She pulled back with an excruciating deliciousness and a prefect amount of suction while she traced little circles along the underside from my base to my tip. _Jesus fucking Christ._ I had to look down. I _had_ to see the extraordinary vision of her working her obvious magic. I'd had my dick sucked plenty, but not quite like this before.

"Fuck, Bella," I grunted and brought my hand to her temple, running my fingers into her hair and grasping in my desperation. She moaned around me, making me vibrate as she swirled her tongue around my tip, then gently, carefully, nibbled. One more swirl around and she took my full length again, this time grazing her teeth softly all the way down. One hand moved to my ass, gripping tightly and urging me deeper into her mouth. Back and forth, over and over, each pass multiplying the fever in my blood. She moaned again and it was a sound of actual delight. I couldn't help it that my hips moved of their own accord, forcing myself into her as far as possible, eager to feel her consuming me with so much obvious pleasure. It was too much, I had to have her.

Right. The. Fuck. _Now. _

**BPOV**

His fingers tangled in my hair and I could feel the urgency in his thrusts as I tipped my head back slightly and took him further into my mouth. He grunted, "Too much," and lightly tugged me up, dragging my body against his.

Countering his statement, I moaned, "Not enough," at the sudden emptiness. I needed him closer, his skin pressed to mine, and he knew it. The aching void between my legs was growing more insistent. The vibrations from the motorcycle against my inner thighs had moved me along from want to _need._ Hands cupping under my ass, he effortlessly lifted me and turned me, pressing my back against the uneven bricks. They scratched at my skin but the pleasure I was feeling far outweighed the pain and it spurred me on. Our tongues tangled before I relented, letting him rule the kiss for that moment. My hands restlessly danced around the tight muscles of his abdomen before running up his chest. Wanting to get closer still, I grabbed onto his shoulders, using his body to get leverage. Nails dug into his skin and he hissed as I was now the one in control of the situation. My hair, damp with sweat, mingled with his and my nose brushed his as I took his bottom lip between my teeth. The heat was everywhere yet the air was nothing in comparison to the heat radiating off of his skin. His lips found my breasts and I arched my back, giving him better access to my nipples, which he took turns nipping and sucking.

My dress hung around my hips and was an annoying hindrance, keeping us further apart and sticking to my thighs. Unwrapping one of my legs, I slid it down a few inches to rest my foot on the floor. He held the other leg firmly wrapped at its place on his hip. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked as his lips brushed my shoulder, continuing his ministrations.

I moaned lowly. "It's too hot. We need to get rid of my dress."

Reluctantly, he released his hold on my leg and I stood on both feet before him, shimmying to Zeppelin's _You Shook Me_ that flowed from the speakers, surrounding us and taking part in our seduction. His hands remained on my hips and he assisted the light dress to the floor. Panting, we brought our foreheads together, our eyes followed it down. The white cotton was a stark contrast to the concrete floor of his apartment.

My dress was on the floor and my defenses were down. All that separated us was the thin scrap of lacey material I'd bought at Victoria's Secret. I tilted my head back so our eyes could meet while I very slowly, worked my thumbs under the sides of the lace before skimming them over my thighs, and then they were falling toward the floor, joining my dress.

I was hot inside and out, ready for him. I hitched my leg around his hip and he grabbed it, running his hand under my ass, down my thigh and to my knee. I could feel his length enticingly close to where I needed him to be. I angled myself closer to him before once again relying on his strength to hold me as I swung my other leg back up, firm in place around him.

"Holy fuck, Bella."

"That's the idea, Edward." I tongued his ear as I spoke and he shuddered at the sensation. "Where do you want me?"

"Where _don't _I want you?"

He walked backward, aiming for the oversized gray couch that sat in the middle of the living room. The back of his knees hit the edge of the couch and we were both there, my knees and shins resting upon the couch and the rest of me resting on him. Reaching for my purse, I reached into the inner pocket and pulled out a condom I'd put in there early in the night. He leaned back and watched as I squeezed the tip of the latex before rolling it down his length. He groaned as my fingers danced down the sensitive skin. Once the condom was properly in place, I wasted no time raising myself up on my knees before sinking down once more and presenting myself to him. Rolling my hips toward him, our bodies united in the most intimate way possible. The fleeting thought that we had only just met was just that... _fleeting._ Instead my thoughts changed to _more, more, more, _and my body responded in kind.

His hands rested on my hips while I rocked my pelvis against his, our heavy and weighty breaths fanning against each other's skin. It was clear he wasn't able to just sit there while I moved over him because his fingers traced small patterns on my skin as he dragged them down and to the apex between my legs. The other hand journeyed behind me, splaying widely near the small of my back.

"Deeper. I need to feel you deeper," I demanded. He moved quickly, flipping us so that I was on the couch and he positioned himself between my legs. His hand grabbed one of my ankles, pushing it up and over his shoulder.

"Is this okay?" he asked, as he pushed himself into me once more. The new position opened me, and I took him further inside. I ran my hands up my thighs and pinched my nipples while he loomed over me, sexy as hell with one hand on the back of the couch and the other on my clit once more. I didn't need to answer with words - my noises gave him all the approval necessary.

His fingers worked nimbly in circles on my clit, faster and faster still. I slid a hand down to sit on my pelvis and rested my fingers where I could feel the pressure from his dick inside of me. Moaning, I tilted my pelvis up and off the couch, infinitesimally. My release was fast approaching, it had been building all night since I saw him stare me down when I'd walked into _The Haunt._ His fingers moved quicker and I started to unravel, my low throaty moan growing louder and more desperate until there was nothing holding me back. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I clenched around him.

As I was coming down from my orgasm, I heard his low gravelly cursing under his breath as he sped his movements and came, thrusting even further inside of me. I watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat and he leaned his forearm against the back of the couch, tilting his head and kissing me. This kiss was different than the ones we shared before. Those were needy, hard and demanding. This one was slower and it held a message of gratitude, which I returned.

Standing, I walked to where my dress and panties had fallen. In a quick swoop, I picked up the dress and put it back over my head, tying the straps once more.

"Hey, where're ya going?" He asked, splayed on the couch, still naked.

I slid on my shoes before walking over to where he was splayed. Dangling the small piece of lace fabric from a finger, I dropped the panties on his chest. He reached his hand up to grab them. "I know where to find you."

Without another word, I walked out the door and into the elevator. I didn't expect him to follow me out, so I was in no rush. Nonetheless, I stumbled a little into the confined space and laughed at myself, shaking my head. Leaning against the railing, my mind jumped back to the ride up and replayed the entire encounter in his apartment. It was _definitely _satisfying and not something I'd be opposed to revisiting again. _Soon. _The lift reached the ground floor and when the doors slide opened, I saw that it had started to rain, cooling the air considerably. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I pushed the handle of the front door open, and trotted down the few stairs that led to the street.

A small wind ruffled my dress, which I held to my body with one hand even though there was no one on the street to see me. I figured it was wise not to take the chance of my dress blowing up. My hair whipped around my head and I took the opposite hand up to push it behind my ear. Doing so, I felt someone watching me.

My eyes found his once more, he stood in the window of his living room, clad only in his boxers and his hands resting over his head on either side of the window sill. Winking at him, I raised my hand in a small wave before turning, not waiting to see if he'd return the gesture. His gaze was tangible, even though I no longer looked at him and I knew he was watching as I dashed across the street.

As I walked, I reached into my purse, pulling out my key from the little side pocket.

Glancing back once more, I saw him there in the window, still watching me.

Imagine his surprise when he realized I'd walked up the steps to _my_ building, turned the key, and let myself inside.

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**mjinaspen stepped up to the plate to beta for us and we LOVE her for it! **

**We also love our partner in crime, TheHeartOfLife, who wrote part two. Enjoy!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**For Kris – happy birthday, baby. :) You are amazingly awesome and I hope this is your best yet. **

**Special thanks to mjinaspen for her beta services. To LightStarDust, LoreliD, hmonster4 and ****h32mh32m, ILY for pre-reading and not laughing at me. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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I sat silently and watched him, thumbnail caught between my teeth.

I'd been waiting for this for a while. It was hot as hell in the bar and though Emmett was barely working – shooting the shit with Jasper and Edward certainly didn't count – he'd worked up a good sweat. His hair had grown damp at the base of his neck and I'd been watching a droplet of sweat hang precariously off the end of a lock of hair. I was waiting for the moment when it would dislodge and descend his damp, golden skin.

That moment was now.

My eyes, heavy-lidded from the weight of heat and wanting him – god, always wanting him – followed its path. I watched it snake slowly over the gentle hills of his cervical spine and then disappear beneath the neckline of his shirt. I wanted to watch where it went next, to see the way it moved sinuously down the subtle ravine of his back. I wanted to catch it with my finger at the bottom of his back, right above those two dimples that perfectly accented his ass, and press myself against him, taste the salt of his skin.

I brought my gaze up slowly, taking in the narrow span of his hips, the way his torso tapered out into a gorgeous chest, broad shoulders, let my eyes wander over the perfectly corded muscles of those hands that knew every inch of my body, of the forearms and biceps that strained when they held me up in the shower or gripped my hips in place against his completely dilapidated, but surprisingly sturdy, dining room table.

I moved my eyes over his mouth, the mouth that had been everywhere, had touched and teased and sucked and licked, and watched it move while he talked and laughed with Jasper and Edward. I watched the dimples that framed his lips flash and disappear, flash and disappear. And when I finally made it to his eyes, he was looking at me in a way that brought goose bumps to my overheated, sticky skin. Jasper and Edward were looking, too, and I noticed and immediately dismissed the knowing grins on their faces, the way Jasper leaned in and murmured something that turned Emmett's grin wicked and sinful.

Though it was 80 million fucking degrees in this place, I didn't know heat until he leveled that knowing look at me. It was the look that told me the same montage that was playing through my head right now – remembering the ways he bent me over, the way he lightly pulled my hair, how he talked dirty to me and fucked me in his slow, dirty, Southern way – was playing through his, too.

It was the look that told me I was in the kind of trouble I loved being in.

He said something to Jasper and Edward that made them all laugh and then slid a glass of amber-colored beer toward me. I caught it easily and licked off the liquid that sloshed over the side and onto my fingers.

"Remember, this is a family establishment," Jasper called, cigarette stuck behind his ear, as Emmett made his way over to me.

"The hell it is. Did you or did you not fuck Alice against the cooler in back two days ago?" Emmett called back, his eyes still locked with mine. He stopped in front of me and I stood, letting him sit on my stool.

Jasper shot us a cocksure grin. "Oh, that? We just wanted to give y'all an example of what not to do."

"Good one, Jazz," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What was that, sugar tits?" Jasper shot back. I flipped him off with both hands and an angelic smile.

"Eyes up, you confederate fuck." Emmett grinned at him over his shoulder, then looked back at me, his eyes roaming over the taut cotton of my white tank top that was unapologetically and almost obscenely sheer. "Jesus Christ, Rosalie, are you even wearing a bra?"

"Sure," I replied with an innocence we both knew I didn't possess. It was a poor excuse for one, though, all wispy lace that barely covered anything. I didn't want to be swaddled in insane amounts of fabric during the height of summer, and anything more than this and the cut-off shorts I was wearing was entirely too much.

Besides, the way Emmett was looking at me told me it would all be coming off very soon anyway. He let out a close-mouthed groan that reverberated in his chest and out to me, into my veins, electrifying my skin and cells and making the hair on my scalp stand on end. His eyes moved over my face, down my neck, over my breasts, and his hands dug into my hips, pulling me between his legs.

"Were you put on this earth just to tease me? I swear to god."

I shrugged, smirking. In truth, I loved teasing him, but I loved _having_ him more. I loved the way he looked at me, the way his body responded to mine, that magnetic pull I always felt when he was within a two-mile radius of me. I loved the way we argued - over politics, what to have for dinner, the best route to take to school or the gas station or our favorite restaurant - and the way we made up after it. I loved waking up at night with him there next to me, solid and tangible and mine.

I couldn't remember exactly what it was like to not have him. Three months and he'd already rooted himself so effortlessly, so completely into my life.

"I always come through, McCarty," I said. I wondered if he could hear or see the rapid thumping happening underneath my sternum, my telltale heart.

"Baby, you always come, period." His grin turned cocky and I slapped him lightly on the cheek.

"Like you complain."

"No," he replied, his voice going rough, his expression intense and seductive. He crooked his finger at me and I moved closer until our noses were almost touching. "I love making you come. I love hearing you say my name."

I swallowed, all semblance of my cool façade gone. He grinned, the dimples reappearing, but his eyes remained serious and fixed on me.

"Where can we go?" I murmured against his ear, my hands bracing against the bar on either side of him, my breasts lightly grazing his chest. I bit the sensitive skin of his lobe and then pulled back, leveling him with a challenging stare.

"Office," he murmured back, blue eyes deep and almost predatory.

"Can you _take me_ there?" I asked, drawing out the words, letting my tongue drag across my bottom lip.

"I can _fuck_ you there," he shot back, low so that only I could hear him. A shiver of anticipation rolled up my spine, and my want for him clawed at my skin, clenched low in my belly. God, if he just touched me for a minute, maybe two, I'd be done for. He stood, the entire length of his body grazing mine, and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Jazz, I'm taking a twenty."

"Oh, I doubt it'll take more than five," Jasper quipped.

Emmett tsked. "Aww, sweetheart, don't be bitter. If you had any clue where or what a clit was, you'd be able to get Alice off pretty quick, too."

"Fuck off," Jasper called jovially, middle finger held high. He moseyed toward Edward, who was at the far side of the bar, eye fucking a slim brunette dancing by herself on the dance floor.

"How'd you know?" I asked, letting Emmett drag me toward the back.

"Seriously, try and keep the screaming to a minimum so you don't scare off our three customers," Edward called to us, his eyes still trained on the girl.

"I think your creepy staring will take care of that, Eddie," Emmett laughed, his hand sweeping down to cup my ass. "Stop being a pussy and go dance with her."

"Yeah, no problem, I'll just fucking _work_ while you two screw around," Jasper said, sticking the cigarette that had been behind his ear in his mouth.

"Great," Edward replied, pretending to miss Jasper's sarcasm as he threw down his rag and headed out from behind the bar. Jasper snorted derisively, muttering to himself around the cigarette.

Emmett shot Jasper a wink and then guided me toward the back, letting me walk in front of him. I could tell he was enjoying the view, could feel his eyes on me and the warmth emanating from his body. I dragged my fingertips along the wall as we made our way down the dark hallway toward the office, letting my hips sway back and forth. I looked at him over my shoulder, catching my bottom lip between my teeth. His eyes were cast downward. My shirt had ridden up because of his wandering hands, and I knew he was taking in his favorite part of this body that was all his, where the curve of my ass and hips narrowed up into my waist. That was where he lavished his attention when I was on top of him, his hands moving back and forth along the dip between my hips and ribs, watching me, telling me what he loved, moaning out the dirtiest things in the accent that thickened whenever he was tasting, feeling, fucking me.

His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist and suddenly I was pinned against the wall, my arm above my head. He stared down at me, his eyes blue, on fire, and brushed his mouth against mine. He did it again and then pressed it to mine firmly, with a confidence that shot right to my abdomen. I parted my lips for him immediately and his tongue was warm, exploring, familiar and exciting and _right_. I inhaled sharply, bucking my hips forward to gain contact with him, to somehow help the pressure building, but I needed more than this. His hands, perfectly molded for my body, went up until they were cupping my breasts, his thumbs moving over my nipples.

"Fuck," I gasped into his mouth and my hips twitched again, my head banging against the wall.

"Yes, now. Move," he growled, but he grabbed me and practically carried me the rest of the way to the office. My feet barely touched the ground.

If possible, it was hotter in the office than it had been in the bar, but I wasn't sure if that was because the room was small and windowless or if it was because of Emmett and the way he'd been touching me, looking at me. I disengaged from his arms and strolled over to the desk, propping myself against it while he took care of shutting and locking the door.

He was in front of me quickly, a foot away. I looked up at him and raised a questioning eyebrow, daring him to make the first move.

"Stand up," he said, mouth twitching.

I stood.

"C'mere," he continued, voice low and honeyed, dripping with promise and sex. I stood on my tiptoes and his mouth met me halfway. Our lips melded slowly, deliciously, our tongues meeting and caressing and this is what I imagined moving in slow motion felt like. It was like every second ticked forward lazily so that I could feel every bit of this, how his hard, solid body pressed against mine, how his hands moved to cradle my head and his fingers weaved themselves into my hair, how his moan vibrated in my mouth and against my chest and lower.

"Please," I murmured in a voice that sounded like mine but not. I couldn't believe how badly I wanted him right now. My need was so acute that I was almost caving in on myself.

"Please what?" His hand reached down between us and roughly grazed the apex of my legs. There might as well not have been any barrier between his hand and my skin, because I felt his touch and it was _right there_ and I needed him there, too. But he was teasing, smiling, even though his eyes were almost black, pupils dilated and wanting. He loved to hear me ask for it. He loved to see me lose control.

I pulled back and looked up at him. My fingers curled underneath the hem of my tank top and I pulled it up and over my head. I tossed it aside and leaned back against the desk, palms flat on a stack of papers. His eyes flew everywhere - stomach, swell of breast, nipples, collarbone and back down - and I raised an eyebrow while he gaped at me, his fingers twitching against my hips. I loved the way we played with each other before succumbing to what we both desperately wanted and needed, the constant struggle for power and control over the other. It was like a game of chess - intellectual, strategic, but also sexual and primal.

And I invariably always won.

"Fuck me," I said, and then for good measure added sweetly, "_Please_."

"_Fuck_," Emmett drew out, making the one-syllable word into at least eight, his voice echoing around the small office. I tried to stop my smug smile, but it slid across my face anyway. His eyes narrowed for a split second and then he shot me an unsteady, sexy grin and breathed out, "You win."

It was all the encouragement I needed. I snaked my hand around the back of his neck, damp skin on damp skin, and brought his mouth back to mine. It was slow again, at first, but deep and I ground my hips against his and I thought maybe I could get off like this, just with him kissing me and grabbing my ass. But I'd asked him to do something else and I wanted it. As if he heard my thoughts, he gave me one last lingering kiss, taking my bottom lip into his mouth, then went for the button on my shorts. I reached for his belt and undid it quickly, flicking open his five-button fly, then tugged impatiently at the hem of his t-shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing me to peel it off, his eyes focused on me the entire time.

"God, you're gorgeous," he said. I let my eyes wander over his chest and torso, taking in the powerful muscles there, all sinew and firm, hard man. I raked my fingernails lightly over them now, enjoying the way his muscles clenched in anticipation as I moved down the length of his chest, his abs, over the subtle line of muscle that made a "v" down into the waistband of his boxers. My eyes lingered there and I bit my lip.

Yes, definitely hard.

"You don't need to sweet talk me, baby. I'm already yours." The last part slipped out accidentally and I would have thought about being embarrassed by my candor if it weren't for the fact that his hand was sliding past the waistband of my underwear. It was, though, and his fingers found sensitive skin and I couldn't even remember my name, let alone the fact that I'd just made myself vulnerable in a way that scared me.

"You're what?" he asked, licking up my neck as his fingers worked me.

I let out a low moan, one hand blindly feeling around for something to hold onto. It curled around the edge of the desk, holding me in place. My legs were starting to shake - god, he was so good at this - and I felt a drop of sweat wind its way down between my breasts.

"Yours," I gasped out. I reached into his pants and felt him and he groaned into my neck, pressing his hot, open mouth against it. I didn't know if it was from my touch or my response or both, but I was starting to see stars behind my eyelids and his hand wasn't where I wanted to come. "I thought I asked you to do something, and this isn't it."

"You don't like this?" he crooned into my ear, his short-bursting breath mingling with mine. There was the accent. His fingers moved lower and curled inside and _Jesus Christ_. My hand, wrapped around him, squeezed involuntarily and we both cried out loudly. "Shhh," he laughed hoarsely. "We have to be quiet."

"_Ungh_," I breathed, nipping at his shoulder, then panted, "Emmett McCarty, if you're not fucking me in two seconds, I swear -"

If there was one thing I appreciated about Emmett, it was that he was an excellent listener. I didn't have time to finish my sentence because his hands were hooked around my shorts and underwear, pulling them down, and then I was bent over the desk, forearms resting on it. I widened my stance slightly, my heart pounding against my chest, and shivered under the weight of the humid air. I bowed my head and looked over my shoulder up at him. His eyes met mine and a wicked smile played on his mouth before he slowly, teasingly, moved into me until the front of his thighs sat flush with the back of mine. The smile disappeared and we both groaned. I dropped my head, moving back against him, needing to feel the friction to somehow manage the ache between my legs, the knot settled low in my stomach.

There were times when he'd grind into me slow, savoring me, touching and kissing me everywhere, moving and molding my body in different ways. This was not one of those times. The contact was intense, immediate, fast and almost desperate. His hands, one gripping my hip, one flat on my back, held me in place while he moved against me, inside me. It was so much, almost too much, and I couldn't make any sound but short, staccato moans, my fingers curling around random papers.

God, what he did to me. Even when he was fucking me, like now, it felt like he was loving me, like he needed me as much as I needed him.

"Jesus, Rosalie," he moaned, his voice thick with strain and lust. "You're...fuck...god, so good."

I pushed back against him, undulating my hips in the way I knew he loved. He moaned again, loud and deep, and his hand snaked around the front of me, moving between my legs. I slammed my hand against the desk to keep from screaming. His fingers, the ones that weren't hurtling me over the edge, dug into the damp skin on my back and soon his movements became more erratic, more wild and uncontrolled.

"Close," I panted, feeling the warmth spreading out, the knot in my stomach unraveling and spiraling downward. I wanted this feeling to last. I wanted to savor it. But I also needed the release so badly, needed to feel him in that way, too.

He grunted in response and I could feel the spasms starting, clenching around him. He let out another moan, a low curse and then another, his words fragmented, growled out.

"So beautiful," he gasped. I looked over my shoulder and his eyes were hooded, heavy, focused on my face. He ground into me, hard, one more time, and then I was gone, moaning out his name and crashing against wave after wave. My body shuddered, helpless against the intensity of what he did to me.

I felt him press harder against me, bend me further over. His hand went down next to mine on the desk and he moved into me once, twice, three times before stilling and letting out a low, guttural groan that vibrated in the air around us and right through me.

He half-collapsed with a hum and curled over me, resting his forearms on the desk next to mine. The office was quiet now; my pounding heart and the memory of his voice when he was inside me and coming was the only sound ringing in my ears. I could feel his hot breath on my sticky skin, his heart thumping against my back, the solid weight of him. I closed my eyes, a lazy, euphoric smile curling my lips.

I loved the after-sex time with Emmett almost as much as during it, when I'd lie on top of him or next to him and we'd let our hearts slow and sync, transitioning from a frantic rhythm to a slower, satiated one. And then he'd start playing with my hair or running his finger up and down my arm or side, or he'd kiss my shoulder like he was doing now. He left tiny, open-mouthed kisses up the curve of it, meant to bring me out of my post-coital haze. I felt his fingers brush against the back of my neck, moving my hair, and I shivered. He laughed against my skin. God, it was amazing, so insane, how we could be so desperate for each other one minute, breathless and grinding, and then share these quiet moments. Both were equally intimate in a way that made my heart dip and squeeze, that made me silently hope I would always have him.

"You alive down there?" he asked finally, voice slow and low and sated.

"Barely," I murmured. I was secretly impressed that I managed to get a word out, given how he had worked me to absolute exhaustion. If this desk hadn't been here to support me, I'd be in a heap on the floor.

He peeled his body away from mine and I groaned in protest. He laughed again, caressing my hips and giving me one last kiss, this time near the base of my spine, before moving further away. Warm air hit my skin and I propped myself up on my elbows shakily, bending my knees to test their strength.

"Christ, what I wouldn't give for a camera right now," Emmett said, smacking my bare ass. I reached blindly back for him and then gave up, settling instead for flipping him off. "Need some help, sweet cheeks?"

I straightened up, trying to look put out, but it was difficult to be indignant when I wasn't wearing any pants. He was standing in the middle of the room, gathering the clothes we'd discarded. His jeans hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers playing peek-a-boo. His hair, those dark curls I loved to run my fingers through absently, was mussed and damp around his ears and neck. I watched him silently, ran my eyes over the soft pinkness spread over his cheekbones, the gentle curl of his mouth. He must have felt my gaze because he looked up and one corner of his mouth went up further. His eyes were at the same time intense and soft, brilliantly blue and holding a look that I knew was specific to me.

I felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with being naked, but my hands went instinctively to cover my lower half anyway. I probably should've covered the metaphorical sleeve where I wore my heart instead.

"Really?" he said, raising a sardonic eyebrow. That look was still there, but tempered by amusement.

I held out my hand, trying for indignant again. "Shorts, please."

"Okay, don't get your panties in a twist," he replied and then looked down at the thong in his hand. "Oh, wait."

"Oh, you're _so_ funny," I drawled, rolling my eyes. He tossed me my shorts and underwear and I wiggled quickly into both while he watched, arms crossed over his bare chest. And then he walked over to me and my fingers forgot that they were supposed to be buttoning my shorts. He brushed them aside gently, fastening the button himself. Then he grinned and leaned forward to place a kiss on my forehead.

"You love it." He moved down to the bridge of my nose. I closed my eyes, reveled in the feeling of his lips making a whisper-soft trail down my face until they reached my mouth. He kissed each upturned corner, then pulled back and cupped my face, running his thumb over the high plane of my cheekbone.

"Do you know how much shit Jasper and Edward would give you if they saw you like this?" I teased, though I loved seeing him like this. We played and fought hard, took as much shit as we gave one another, but these small glimpses of deep and true affection were the perfect balance to the scale of our relationship.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that this me is only for you then, isn't it?" he said, his gaze steady on me.

I smiled, closing my eyes as he dipped his head down for another kiss and this time I didn't even try to hide my heart. He knew it was his.


End file.
